In which children's booksellers ponder all things literary, artistic, and mercantile

Monthly Archives: August 2010

This coming Saturday is Shelburne Day. A day created by the town to celebrate all that makes our town special. Somehow, this involves every business renting a tent and having a sale. On the surface this sounds simple, but sales are actually a lot of work.

The goal of a sale is two-fold. First, to sell books that have been languishing. these are generally books that can no longer be returned — oddball books from small publishers whose returns aren’t worth the freight back, and the mistakes the buyer (sadly, usually me) has made throughout the year. The second goal of a big sale is to generate cash flow, so it’s imperative to sell lots of books.

Having a store-wide sale, coupled with a sidewalk sale (we’re skipping the tent this year), means a lot of decisions have to get made. The first decision is what books will go outside on the deck and our tiny lawn on sales tables. We’re thinking the steeply discounted books will be outside. Kind of a teaser to bring folks into the store. There needs to be a healthy mix of books, though — some more current titles and some more obscure. Once the titles for outside are decided, they must be coded for the right discount. Stickers are the easiest way, but if time allows, it’s always best to get the discounts in the computer, so that anyone on staff can know the discount. Admittedly, this is tedious, but it can help give you a really good idea of the number of books you’ve got at the variety of discounts.

Display for the sale books makes a big difference. These are still books, and shouldn’t be treated like rumpled sweaters at a bargain basement. They need to look appealing at all times, which means the table must constantly be refreshed and tidied. I cannot stress this enough. A table with a haphazard scattering of books looks bad and doesn’t invite browsing or sales.

Inside the store we like to have a sales sheet to give to customers, so they can browse freely without having to ask us to check on sale prices. This sales sheet is backed up by highly visible signage in all the sections. This allows for independent shopping and can help avoid confusion about what’s on sale. The mere act of writing the sales sheet helps us see what all the discounts are, thus ensuring that we’ve got a good mix of steep and regular discounts. Every sale needs balance: enticing discounts for shoppers, but a sense for the shopkeeper that you’re not giving too much away.

It’s always funny to me how attached to books I become at sale time. As the sale gets closer I often myself regarding books in a different way. Has it earned its keep? Is it time for this title to go? Or will it cause me pain to see this title go at a steep discount? It’s a process that involves the whole staff. Everyone chimes in with their suggestions and together we put the store on sale, inside and out.

One of the best things about a sidewalk sale is being able to work outside. And you can be sure, if it’s a sunny day, we’ll all be fighting for a shift on the lawn. Look for a blog post next Monday for some photos and a recap of the sale.

Let’s say you’re mortal. Now let’s say you’re a book lover. Where’s the intersection between these two things? You guessed it — bookcase coffins. Which (with apologies to you squeamish types) is the theme of today’s post.

In my travels around the web searching for apartment storage solutions, I stumbled upon (and — really — it felt like I’d actually stumbled when I came across these) two different bookcases that double as coffins. This way you can hide your coffin in plain sight if you want to own and take possession of a coffin before you die, which apparently an increasing number of people are choosing to do.

Let me pause for a brief confession here: when I first found these bookcase coffin images, I thought this was going to be a funny post — a “what an odd and offbeat idea, let’s all laugh about it” post. BUT then I read the content of the webpages on which these coffins appeared, and the topic suddenly became both a lot less humorous AND a lot more interesting.

The first two bookcase coffins below come from the website of a Maine group called Last Things: Alternatives at the End of Life. The group and website were created by Klara Tammany, whose moving essay about her own mother’s burial illustrates the reasons her family and others are choosing to have green burials and rejecting what she sees as impersonal and ecologically damaging funeral and burial practices. Last Things offers support and resources for those looking for more information about alternative burial options. The coffins displayed on their site (including this one) are all handmade by group member/woodworker Chuck Lakin. The first one here is the Bookcase Coffin model.

This second model is what Chuck calls a Multipurpose Coffin. It can be used either as a bookcase OR as an entertainment center, and I personally think it’s 100% convincing as either of those things. (I mean, really — who would know?)

Like Chuck Lakin, New Zealand company Final Furniture Limited is creating coffins mindful of eco-conscious clients. Their nextgen bookshelf/wine rack allows you to raise a glass to your past while, well, facing your future. The photo on the beach at the top of this post shows how the bookcase/winerack looks in its… alternate form. (I feel like I’m writing about a Transformer here.)

While the Last Things and Final Furniture bookcase coffins are probably intended more for people nearing the end of their lives, this next one (via Inhabit), which designer William Warren calls Shelves for Life, is not. As Warren explains, “Shelves For Life is a self-initiated project to further explore ideas of built-in sentimentality within our possessions. The aim is to make stronger emotional relationships with our belongings and encourage lifelong use… They are intended to be used throughout life as storage for personal belongings. On death, the shelves are dismantled and rebuilt as a coffin.”

Maybe I’m being swayed by the fact that we’re about to spend some money on a “real” sofa which feels like an almost-lifelong commitment, but I like the rather anti-IKEA aim of Warren’s experiment with this. (Note, though, that someone has apparently come up with plans to make an IKEA bookcase coffin too.) Disposable is bad. You can store things in it now AND be buried in it later is, um… Good. Mostly. Especially when the design is as elegant as this.

That having been said (and this is the problem), I’m not sure how it would feel to be shelving books in and dusting knick-knacks on my future coffin. Suddenly that bookcase would feel a bit TOO important to me, I think. (God forbid the movers drop THAT one!) And I’m not sure I’d want such a large, visual reminder of my own mortality in my living room. Unless its presence would encourage me to procrastinate less and work more… Hmmm.

In looking around for more info on this topic I came across a thoughtful post on a blog called Pink Slip by one Maureen Rogers, that concludes thusly: “I have just gauged that our old Workbench bookcases are neither deep enough nor sturdy enough to act as coffins. If, when the time comes when Jim and I experience the miracle of death, we’re planning on anything other than cremation and scatter, I would consider one of [Chuck Lakin’s] creations. I’d probably go for the coffee table version. We can always use more storage.”

Starred reviews are excellent guideposts, but they don’t tell the whole story, of course. There are amazing books out there that never receive a starred review but are popular and/or critical favorites nonetheless. This year, to name just a couple of examples, I have been really surprised not to come across any starred reviews yet for the rather extraordinary, beautifully written Zora and Me, by Victoria Bond and TR Simon (Candlewick), or The Red Umbrella, a fascinating novel about the 1961 Cuban children’s exodus by Christina Diaz Gonzalez (Knopf).

Please note: starred reviews are counted only when they have been officially published by the review magazines, so if your book has an upcoming star, never fear; it will be included in a future update.

Edited to add: So far, I’ve logged 749 starred reviews for 494 books.Publishers, please alert me to any oversights. This is a detail-laden process, and as careful as I try to be, there may be bobbles here and there.

Receiving a starred review is a rare and wonderful honor for a book and its creators, so we hope this list will be a handy resource for buyers of all stripes. The list was compiled from all the review sources by one little indie bookseller; please consider ordering from any of your favorite indies instead of a chain or online megastore.

The other day, the store was busy and I answered the phone cheerily enough. The woman on the other end played to my ego: “You’re so good at recommending, I was wondering if you could make some suggestions for my five-year-old.” I was more than happy to help.

I asked a few questions about her child. Turns out she had just read him The Hobbit. I held back on commenting, save for a, “Wow. He must have a great attention span.” Sensing this could be a challenge, as we had a really well read kid on our hands, I suggested the customer come to the store, then we could really pick and choose books that might suit him. The customer said rather clumsily, “No, no, I just need a list. I will come in and get the books from you. I just need a list now.”

I sensed something amiss. Rather than spend twenty minutes on the phone as I did, perhaps I should have given her three great suggestions and turned my attention to the customers in the store, but I got caught up in the excitement of trying to find the right book for this young reader. I had a yummy stack in my hand and I asked the customer her name, so I could set the books aside for her to come look at when she came in. “Well, I’m not going to get the books with you. I’m taking the list to Crow Books (a wonderful used bookstore in Burlington).”

I was stunned. I understand that sometimes budget dictate where you can buy books, but to take a bookseller’s time knowing full well you have absolutely no intention of buying anything at that store seems kinda mean, especially after I really tried to find things this precocious reader would enjoy.

I know people get information about books from a variety of sources and I shouldn’t be surprised, but I was. I guess I’ve gotten used to folks coming in the store and choosing one or two books from the towering stacks we show them. I think it was the sheer duplicitness of this call that really got to me. Of course we help everyone, but to lie about your plan to shop at my store and then tell me, after you’ve gotten fifteen titles from me, that you’re going somewhere else, seemed unnecessary. The only thing that consoled was if this mom got even one of the books for her son, they’d have a wonderful time reading, and that had to be enough.

A tidbit for a Monday morning: this very funny video re-imagining the world of Jane Austen if it included Fight Club. I am a sucker for a good mash-up (but there are very few really well-executed ones).

What children’s book mash-ups would you like to see? I’m thinking Babe the Gallant Pig / Top Chef. (Oh no I di’n’t!) Or how about Flowers for Algernon, where Charley meets The Runaway Dolls? (Hey, I never said they were good ideas.) Josie suggests Horton Hears a Who and Machiavelli’s The Prince.

When we ran a post in ShelfTalker recently about young-adult book covers—The Season of Windblown Hair — Or, the Zeitgeist of Book Covers—author Nancy Werlin wrote us a note. She said, “Elizabeth’s recent cover post sparked me to write something about covers from an author’s POV. ” Attached to her note was the article that follows this introduction; it’s a revealing, behind-the-scenes look at the kind of conversations established authors have with their editors (and agents, and others) during the cover design process. We are delighted to add her voice to the conversation about how book jackets are designed and changed and edited until they are approved and ready for the bookshelves.

[Note: Not all authors are invited into the cover design process; perhaps even the majority are not. Publishing houses have varying policies about author participation in book cover and art discussions, and newer authors generally have less input than well-known authors with more experience in the industry, like Nancy.]

And now, without further ado, here is:

Anatomy of a Cover: Extraordinary by Nancy Werlin

Part 1. Thrifty R Us

So, I was having breakfast with my editor, Lauri Hornik at Dial/Penguin, at the ALA convention in June, and suddenly Lauri lowers her voice and says, “Did you see that story in Publishers Weekly about the YA cover shoot?!”

“You bet I did,” I say. “Ack!”

“They spent over $20,000!”

“$28,000!” [Note: It was actually $26,000. I have a tendency to exaggerate for the sake of the story.]

“In fairness, it was for four covers. But still! Can you imagine?”

“No!”

This explains why, in talking about the cover of Extraordinary, I will be discussing stock art, PhotoShop, and the genius of in-house cover designers – in this case, Natalie Sousa at Penguin. I also have to mention interior designer Jasmin Rubero, because Extraordinary has a lovely page design too.

Part 2. Cover Design Mission

There was a mission: To match the cover of Extraordinary to the cover of the paperback Impossible, which was commercially successful. Consider the outdoor natural setting, the single girl in motion with her hair blowing, and the cursive font used for the title; both covers have these in common.

Conceptually, though, the “same but different” mission was tricky for the designer. You couldn’t have the cover of Extraordinary suggest to readers that they’d be getting the continuing adventures of Lucy Scarborough from Impossible, only that they are likely to get a similar reading experience.

Then there’s the mission of any cover: to represent the book’s contents authentically enough while appealing to the tastes of those most likely to want to buy it and read it.

“Authentically enough.” What do I mean by this? Well, I’m a veteran of YA book covers (just take a look at my website’s Cover Gallery, in which you’ll find my sometimes trenchant comments on the covers of my books over time). I used to want covers that represented the book’s contents very closely, and were also pretty. Many folks automatically believe that this is what makes a good cover.

But I’ve changed my mind about this. While the cover should not lie (by implication or outright), its job is simply to say: “Pick me up!” to someone who might like the book. That is all. And you have more moving parts than the art: you also have the title and author’s name.

Part 3. The Right Stock Photo

I can only guess how long it took Natalie to find the right stock photo. I imagine she typed “young girl” (and maybe some other keywords) into many different stock photo sites and scanned and scanned and scanned through the results. In the end, she found it at Agenja Free/Alamy.

If you click on the stock photo website link, you can perform the search. Enter “young woman forest” (don’t use the quotes). You’ll see a selection of photos that includes the green forest glade from the Extraordinary cover. (Or you can just look at the picture of the search results.)

On the second page, you’ll find the photo that Natalie used, and you’ll see a few others of that same blonde girl in a red dress frolicking in the forest. There’s one of the girl running toward (rather than away from) the camera; one of her holding her dress out; a few of her sitting in the grass; one of her dancing in sort of a demented way. Maybe Natalie considered some of those as well.

In any event, she created a mock-up (one of many, no doubt) which was the one that Lauri first sent to me.

Part 4. Actual E-Mail: Cover Mock-Up #1 … and #2 … and #3 … and the Final Decision

Here’s the actual email dialogue that followed.

Mock-Up #1 for Extraordinary jacket

LAURI (to Nancy): Here’s a jacket-in-progress (#1).

I’m not liking the hot pink color of the dress and shoes, and I’m thinking that we’ll want some shimmer effect for punch and to hint at the otherworldly setting. What do you think? Could this girl fairly represent Mallory? And do you like the general look of this? We are, of course, trying very specifically to give the novel a companion look to the IMPOSSIBLE paperback.

NANCY: Hm. Interesting! Yes to giving it a companion look to IMPOSSIBLE. And I think this “pops.” But it’s also a little too running-girl-Gothic for me. (Remember those old ’70s romance paperbacks? They always showed a girl in peril, running in a dress.)

I like the green landscape and the high heels. I agree with you about not liking the hot pink color in the dress.

Yes, that could be Mallory, who’s described as having straw-colored hair. But is there a way to make the cover indicate *two* girls? I don’t actually like having Mallory only on the cover; she’s not the main character. If only one girl is shown, it should be Phoebe.

GINGER KNOWLTON (agent): My favorite part is the title font. I immediately thought that I would want a handwriting expert to interpret it.

15-YEAR OLD TEEN: It doesn’t fit the description of Phoebe. And… the girl looks obnoxious… as do the colors. Buuuuuut that’s just me. I would rather see an image of a girl standing in the garden with Phoebe’s description – short with wild red-brown hair or even Mallory with a pair of wings… but yeah… that’s just my snobby opinion. 😛

NANCY: The most salient detail, to me, is that our teen expects to see Phoebe, not Mallory. And she’d rather see a garden than a forest.

LAURI: Thanks, Nancy. This is helpful. We’re limited, in terms of setting and girls, by what we can find as a stock image. But I do think Natalie can work some magic with PhotoShop. Stay tuned.

Mock-Up #2 for Extraordinary jacket

LAURI (to Nancy): Here’s the other jacket comp that we’ve been thinking about recently. Would love to hear your thoughts.

NANCY: [Answer lost in the bowels of email, but it was something on the order of, “Dear God, no.”]

Potential jacket #3 for Extraordinary

LAURI: Here’s a third cover option — one that I love. What do you think?

NANCY: I like everything about it except the girl. The forest atmosphere is terrific. Would it be possible to swap in a different girl or change her clothes?

LAURI: I know — it’s nothing that Phoebe would wear. I’ll ask Natalie if there’s any way to change the outfit. But can we get away from having Phoebe in all black? Any other options? [Note: In the novel, Phoebe wears nothing but black. But it turns out that this is not the best visual choice if you want your cover girl to be striking.]

LAURI (presenting final cover, showing original girl who now has reddish hair and is wearing black): After much discussion, we’ve decided that the attached comp is the strongest:

Potential Extraordinary jacket #4 (the winner!)

We did look at inserting other girls into the photo that had the grand trees and the pinks in the sky, but it looked awkward, and Sales found that photo too introspective/quiet to have shelf impact. This one was forcefully preferred by the group, and with the outfit a different color and her hair more Phoebe-ish, I feel very good about this one. Some questions: Do YOU feel good about this one? Does this girl look enough like Phoebe? And how do you feel about the new title type? The previous version, as gorgeous as it is, was too difficult to read.

NANCY: Well, “forcefully preferred by the group” is a strong argument for me. This #1 had been growing on me since I first saw it, and I suspect it will grow on me even more over time, as did the IMPOSSIBLE cover. Yes, I do think this could be Phoebe now — and that’s quite important. And I love how this cover matches with the IMPOSSIBLE cover.

(And I adore the shoes. This cover asks the important and perhaps irresistible question: Why is she running through a glade in THOSE SHOES????)

The original title font was so lovely, I mourn it, but I can live with this. It gives the same feel, almost, and it IS easy to read.

In short: I am on board, too.

LAURI: The color of the outfit makes a BIG difference in the tone of the whole. I feel it gives the book the solidity, the gravitas that it deserves, and that it doesn’t any longer look like popcorn. The group at the meeting this week all agreed, and they seemed whole-hearted.

NANCY: One question: can we have a line or two about the plot on the back cover? I just read an article that explained that many kids don’t know to read the flap copy. They look on the back and then put the book back on the shelf if it doesn’t contain some hint of what the book is about.

LAURI: Absolutely!

Part 5. Cover as Magic

I now look over the above exchange with bemusement. Why didn’t I immediately see that the first cover composite was on the right track? That it was going to be gorgeous, and fitting?

Maybe I was scared. Writers put a lot of weight on their book covers. I couldn’t see clearly through the haze of my emotional investment in Extraordinary. Did this cover express everything that I felt about my book? About Phoebe Rothschild, her friend Mallory, and everything that happens between them?

Well, how could it? Extraordinary is an original fairy tale, a contemporary story. But like a traditional fairy tale, it heads quickly into frightening, bloody territory. I am afraid for my book, as it goes out alone into the world, just as I was frightened for Phoebe as I wrote and rewrote her story.

No matter how beautiful and loved a cover may be, the jury on it remains uncommitted until the book has been in the world for a while. Perhaps bookstore buyers will be indifferent. Perhaps it will be lost on store shelves. Perhaps there’s another book or two out there using the same or a similar photo. Perhaps its concept or color scheme is part of a trend that’s suddenly over. Perhaps ShelfTalker at Publishers Weekly or the anonymous designer at “Jacket Whys” or other bloggers will rip it to shreds for a reason never imagined during the design process.

And then there is the inside of the book.

A book cover says “open me.” The opening of a particular book will be magic for some readers; but for others, it will not. And about these others the author must learn to say, “My book, my beautiful book, was not written for them. They will find their magic elsewhere, and that’s just as it should be.”

It’s ever so slightly hard, however, to get to this place of acceptance. And so the author hopes that the cover will itself be magical, attracting all the right readers, and as few as possible of the wrong ones, to what really matters: what’s inside the cover.

Most booksellers have had this experience at least once or twice in their careers: selling a book based on a single sentence uttered to a receptive ear. It’s a rare and delicious triumph of communication, a gift given by the booktalking muse, and it delights customers as much as it delights booksellers.

Sometimes, a book provides you with that magical line—often its first sentence—and all one needs to do is read it aloud to a customer and the book is sold. For instance, Frances Marie Hendry’s marvelous Quest for a Maid begins with this stunner: “When I was nine years old, I hid under a table and heard my sister kill a king.” That’s all a kid needs to hear to want to read that book. The same is true of Avi’s True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle, which starts thusly: “Not every thirteen-year-old-girl is accused of murder, brought to trial, and found guilty.” The reader is hooked like a pike on a piece of year-old Velveeta.

Not every great first line is enough to sell a customer on a book, though. Perhaps the most famous first line in children’s literature is “Where’s Pa going with that ax?” from E.B. White’s Charlotte’s Web. The line certainly earns a reader’s riveted attention, but a bookseller definitely has to add a little bit about Charlotte and Wilbur to that booktalk (at least, if the customer has been living on Neptune for the past century and doesn’t already know the book). And a little extra description is required for one of my favorite first lines, from M.T. Anderson’s Feed: “We went to the moon to have fun, but the moon turned out to completely suck.” It’s a perfect piece of immediate world-building, but doesn’t give a customer a sense of the plot — so you need a second sentence. But that’s all it takes.

In our store, the most common single-sentence sales come from simply saying that one of our booksellers loved it. These aren’t bookstore-muse-inspired one-liners, but it’s certainly gratifying to make sales based on that level of trust our customers have for our staff members.

The key to the one-liner is that it has to lure the reader with something irresistible, something intriguing or powerful or magical or mysterious that invites a deeper relationship with the book. It also has to be sincere, enthusiastic, and heartfelt. I’m sure the expressions on our faces that sell books as much as the words we use. People can see it in your eyes when you’ve loved a book, lived it, want to share it with others. Here are some of the one-line (or one-phrase) descriptions we give that seem to do the trick for readers.

The Boxes, by William Sleator: “A boy’s mysterious uncle gives him a package to hide, instructing him never to open it—and then the box in his closet begins to tick.”

A Barrel of Laughs, A Vale of Tears, by Jules Feiffer: “There’s a prince so silly that everyone falls down laughing near him, so his father the king thinks he’ll make a terrible ruler someday and sends him on a quest to be serious.”

The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins: “It’s got a really brutal premise, but it’s amazing.” That’s enough for kids. For writers and teachers, I add: “and it’s the most perfectly paced book I’ve ever read.”

Life as We Knew It, by Susan Beth Pfeffer: “A meteor hits the moon off-course, causing major natural disasters, and a typical teenage girl’s whole life, everything she’s ever known and counted on, begins to unravel.” That’s enough to hook a reader, and as we walk toward the front desk, we like to add that it’s a one-sitting read, and that the customer is going to start obsessing about survival supplies.

Gerald Durrell’s My Family and Other Animals: “It’s like reading bottled sunshine.”

The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas: “This is a great summer read: an epic potboiler full of betrayal, revenge, prison escapes, duels, star-crossed lovers, rags and riches.”

The Last of the Really Great Whangdoodles, by Julie Andrews Edwards: “Three kids meet this funny little professor who needs their help to get to the magical Whangdoodleland and rescue the last whangdoodle.” For adults, I add: “And it’s by Julie Andrews, one of the few celebrities who writes beautifully for children.”

Mrs. Biddlebox, by Linda Smith and illustrated by the inimitable Marla Frazee: “It’s the perfect book for anyone who’s caught in a black cloud at the moment, and the illustrations are remarkable.” I love this book so much, and always felt it didn’t get the attention it deserved.

Weslandia, by Paul Fleischman: “A boy who’s kind of a loner, and not like most other kids, is incredibly original and starts building his own society, which unexpectedly brings him all kinds of friends.” (This one works well because every kid feels different from other kids, and wants to create a world where everyone belongs. Or, um, was that just me?)

The nearly wordless sell:

I think Josie has written about this exchange before, but it was such a funny/wonderful bookstore moment that I’m repeating it. She had recommended Markus Zusak’s The Book Thief to a customer, commenting that it was in my personal top ten or twenty favorite books of all time. The customer came up to the counter, caught my eye, and said, “It’s really that good?” All I did was look at her, my face revealing, I guess, every bit of the awe and power and compassion and sorrow and humor that book conjures up for me. “Sold!” she crowed, and plunked down her fifteen dollars. We all just laughed. That’s some book.

How Rocket Learns to Read, by Tad Hills: Show them the cover. That’s it. (It’s easy to come up with a single line to recommend this one, too, though.)

Booksellers and librarians and teachers and readers out there, what are your most successful one-line booktalks?

While on vacation this past week, I was reminded anew the importance of customer service, or lack thereof, and its effect on the customer. I was happily browsing and chatting, not loudly or about anything other than books, in the back of this store, when the sole worker approached me and my two friends and said pointedly, “Could you please keep it down.” This was punctuated with a withering look as he went to the store room.

I was stunned. Not only were we not being loud or inappropriate, we were in a bookstore, not the reading room of the Library of Congress. To be shushed in a store when I was hardly speaking above a whisper really chilled me. So much in fact, I put the book down I was thinking of buying and left, and I never went back the rest of the vacation, and this is a store that I always try to patronize when I’m on the Cape. This experience brought home to me that one bad experience can sour a customer on a store, sometimes forever. As a store owner, I got to thinking about the old adage I always hear about customer service: if someone has a great experience they tell three people about it, if they have a bad experience, they tell nine people. That’s a horrible ratio, which bore out with the shushing experience.

A good bookstore should be many things, but most of all it should be welcoming. Happy customers chatting about books makes the store seem vital and alive. A silent store makes people nervous. I’ve actually said, in a loud whisper, “You don’t have to whisper. It’s a bookstore, not a library, really it’s okay to speak.” Children usually laugh when I say this and parents visibly relax. Being able to have a conversation is HUGE in a bookstore. Bookstore inspire discussion and discussions should not be hushed. One of the things I love best about the Flying Pig is when customers join conversations and complete strangers are talking about why they loved, or hated, a particular book. It’s invigorating and I love to hear what everyone’s got to say.

A bookstore is a tiny community within its town. People come in expecting to be able to browse and to chat, and that’s how it should be. I can honestly say that in fourteen years of business, I’ve never shushed anyone, and if I ever do, it’s time for me to get a new job.